


Unwelcome guests

by LucifersSpawn



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fights, Fluff, Freeform?, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Gore, Humor, Injury, Magic, Maybe - Freeform, No Spoilers, Pre-Relationship, badass woman, the romance is barely there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25335097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucifersSpawn/pseuds/LucifersSpawn
Summary: The eight companions made a stop in a boring town, where Cyrus investigates a sealed book. It ends up in a small incident of sorts.This work is mostly just a little scene of their travel, focusing on their friendships and interactions.
Relationships: Primrose Azelhart/H'aanit, everyone&everyone (friendship u know)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

They were in this town for quite a few days and so far everything’s been kinda ok. A colleague of Cyrus had found a book here that was somewhat magically sealed and although said colleague took off soon Cyrus wasn’t one to give it up. So he spent most of the time in his little room in the inn, barely coming out to eat. The rest of the crew didn’t mind the stop though. Everyone enjoyed it in their own way. 

This particular evening, Alfyn is still out and about (since he mentioned his apothecary services are free the folk has been nagging him about every little scratch, bruise and cough and he happily obliged, while Therion muttered something about them not having a lot of money and being in need of supplies), as well as Tressa and Olberic, because the merry girl wanted to sell some stuff they found while travelling and Olberic seemed to like making sure she is ok out on the street way past sunset. 

But Therion, Ophilia and Primrose were already seated comfortably in the little tavern, which was also the inn, because the town wasn’t that big and they had some rooms upstairs while the drinks and barely acceptable foods were handed on the ground floor. Not many travellers came here, or maybe that was an understatement, because the eight companions were the only guests at the inn and also the only people in the tavern room. It was a cosy, if not dusty and filthy little place for the cost of a fortune, as Primrose has said after they had arrived. 

“Is Cyrus still up there?” she asks now, gaze softening as the barmaid, or well, the grim-looking wife of the evenly grim-looking owner, brings her ale to the table.

“Yep. Hasn’t moved anywhere. I bet he doesn’t even know which day it is,” answers Therion with a slight smug half-smile.

Ophilias gaze wanders to the ceiling like she could see through the wood inside the professor’s room, slightly worried.

However, before she could share her thoughts with her friends, H’aanit enters the tavern, her bow on her back, Linde following her calmly. She has a dead rabbit (or rabbit-like creature, local animals were slightly weird) in her hand, approaching the bar with her usual confidence and dropping her hunted prey on it, right before the owners wife, who looks at her with pure shook, her gaze slowly wandering towards the dead animal. 

“Aaaaand here goes nothing,” mutters Therion.

H’aanit slightly bows her head to the woman. “If thou allowest me the honesty; yesterday’s meal hath been the same as the dayth before that… so I offer thou this animal for preparation and our nourishment.” With that being said, she leaves the bar and the still shocked woman to take a seat at the table, next to her companions, while Linde lies down at the fireplace, letting the warmth of the fire dry her fur, damp from the chill night air. Although they never had enough firewood to last for the evening. Lazy folk.

“They will kick us out eventually,” whispers Ophilia. They all watch the Innkeeper take the rabbit with a disgusted expression and making her way to the back, towards the kitchen where her husbands is, her steps echoing on the wood, fuelled by her anger.

Primrose can’t help herself any longer and laughs loudly. “Oh H’aanit, you are too pure for this house!”

“True anyway, could barely wash down that grey porridge with their stale ale this morning,” adds Therion. 

Before H’aanit could share her experiences on today’s hunt, or ask her companions about their day in town, a loud thud from above startles them all, tensing them up, H’aanit already halfway standing up again. Another thud is followed by a muffled cry, undoubtedly belonging to no other than Cyrus. Not wasting another second they run towards the stairs, Therion already taking one of his knifes from his belt although they didn’t even know if there was any threat. But something was up; rather be prepared than taken by surprise, eh?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> action? anyone?

Well a knife in one’s hand is definitely not the deciding factor of being taken by surprise.

The door to Cyrus’ room was closed, and while Therion was first to reach and open it, Primrose stumbled into the room, only to stop dead immediately.   
It was a small room, with a little table on the left and one bed in the far right, another one in the far left corner, a small window with old curtains in between. Caused by the lack of eight rooms and the prize Alfyn and Cyrus shared this room.   
Anyway, said scholar was on the floor between the table and the bed, back pressed against the wall, unconscious, with a small trail of blood running down the side of his face. His knees are bent, feet on the floor and a burned-out book between them.   
Well, Primrose doesn’t even notice him. 

Because there is another, way more overwhelming presence in the room, a beast, a monster, there is no easy way to describe it. 

It’s so huge; it takes most of the space of the room. Its body is covered in white fur, like a bear of the snow-covered lands, still it stands upon two legs like a person, having a horrific, humanoid form. Well, if you could call four kinds of arms, two on each side, humanoid, with hands that got way too long fingers and sharp claws. The head was mostly covered by an agape mouth, spiked with sharp yellow teeth, liquid, probably saliva, dripping down on the floor, hitting it with a sizzling sound before burning into the wooden floor. The creature had no eyes, but it sniffed the air like it had a nose, although that would be invisible or something like that. It was way too close. It was so long and big, although standing there hunched over, the head touched the kind of crashed in ceiling.

As Therion openes the door and Primrose crashes into the room, barely able to stop herself from tumbling into the monster, that flings his head in a swift motion from Cyrus direction towards the dancer, letting out a screechy roar that freezes Prim to the bone. She could smell its foul breath, stinking like something decays between those long teeth. Which, at this point, would not surprise anyone. 

To put it mildly, the sudden appearance of a deadly huge creature in the little dim room of the inn was not what anyone expected. Maybe Cyrus had fallen down, after overestimating his own energy or was surprised by something he read in a book or over the break of the seal or something stupid like that. But a … beast?? Primrose finds herself frozen to the ground, goose bumps covering her skin, breath ragged.

Before the beast could make the first move, an arrow flies into the room and although flying with, well, speed (you know, “fast awesome arrow-speed”, as Tressa once put it), the creature manages to nearly dodge it, not having enough room for a full dodge but making a fast move to the right so the arrow hits one of its shoulders instead of the neck. It lets out a terrible scream, which actually wakes Prim from her shock, so she manages to jump out of the room as the creature lunges forward, knowing this is the only way out of the room. The long legs make for wide steps (and a hilarious fast walking method but it isn’t the right time to laugh about it).   
All four arms fly wildly in the air like they cannot rest anymore, leaving deep marks in the wood of the wall and the H’aanit, Ophilia and Therion have trouble dodging the long claws, busy with keeping themselves alive. One of the arms hits Ophilia on her torso, with such brute force that she is actually flung into the room with a shriek, while Therion tries striking the monster with his knife but only misses and has to press himself to the wall of the small hallway.   
H’aanit had to crouch down to avoid being hit, but she was not able to grab her axe fast enough to strike it into the beasts leg, as one of its clawed feet actually moves back and hits her head, leaving a scratch on her cheek and making her visions cloudy, double and triple. 

Next second the monster is already past them, halfway falling down the stairs, the floor creaking and some wooden panels breaking underneath it. They hear the scream of the Innkeepers wife and the shout of her husband, as well as another shrill screech of the monster after a roar from Linde. 

Primrose is already in motion, dashing after the creature, pulling her knife out of her garter. 

The table is flung over, the tavern room a mess, while Linde attacks the monster and stops it from storming into the town, protecting the folk with her position between the monster and the door. The married couple must have fled into the backroom; maybe they even got a backdoor there. But Primrose barely takes that in, she only notices her advantage: on those stairs, she is behind the monster.   
Still energized from her run she jumps on the railing and takes a powerful leap from there, being in the air for what seems like a moment in slow-motion, before colliding with the monsters back, while a shout worthy for a battlefield slips her lips. Clenching her legs tight around the monsters torso to stop herself from slipping down its fur, she hooks one arm around its left shoulder, grabbing a handful of fur for a better grip and plunges her knife into the monsters neck, before pulling it out and stabbing it again and again, as often as she could. The feeling of the knife gliding through fur, piercing through skin and flesh would probably hunt her dreams, while warm, dark-red blood splutters from the wound onto her hand and arm, a few drops even landing on her face. 

Primrose is not aware of her surrounding, doesn’t notice Therion storming down the stairs behind her. He positions one hand on the railing, jumping over it sideways to avoid the last, broken steps. 

H’aanit is close behind him, although way less elegant and slightly disorientated, she stops midway on the stairs. Her bow tensed with an arrow she quickly decides against shooting, the possibility of harming Primrose way too high. 

The creature makes its awful screeching noises again, so shrill and high it lets the companions clench their jaws in pain and leaves their ears ringing. Hurt from Primroses attacks and not tolerating her on its body, it arches his back, arms flinging aimlessly, seemingly not flexible enough to reach the dancer and it staggers on the floor, trying to find its balance again after the sudden add of weight. 

Linde lunges forward, burying her teeth into the beast’s thigh, claws mercilessly scratching down its leg. 

Therion has drawn his sword and manages to thrust it into the beast’s torso, right between his arms, although he losses grip of his sword when he has to jump back to avoid one of the arms hitting him. It makes him swear (“never let go of your sword, dumbass”), while the weapon itself doesn’t move an inch, deeply stuck in the creatures body. 

The creature staggers again, even more unbalanced and way weaker, its dark blood colouring its fur and the floor. It was going to fall. Backwards. Onto Primrose, who still clutched onto his back, obviously not aware of the danger of going down, probably hitting some wooden chairs that fell over before being buried under stinking bloody fur. 

Still a bit inelegant H’aanit runs forward, nearly tripping over a hole in the stairs, before she just tosses herself sideways into the creature. Her powerful jump, her weight, the weakness and lack of balance make the monster fall sideways. With a crash it lands on the already flung over and broken table, splattering blood around and rooting up a worrying amount of dust from the floor. 

Afterwards everything is still, not even a muscle of the beast twitching anymore. As fast as this episode of danger and action had begun, its end was just as abrupt and sudden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone felt the epicness of Prims attack. No, just me? Meh.   
> Kudos and comments welcome.   
> Over and out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A (not so) wise girl once said Ophilia is always right. It's me. I'm the girl. Chapter 3 here u go.

H’aanit finds herself on wet fur, her hand slipping in it as she tries to stable herself enough to stand up. There is so much dust and also ash from the fire place (oh well, had the creature fallen like two inches to the right it would have caught fire and burned the whole place down- lucky them) that she has to blink for a few times before she’s able to take in her surroundings again. By then, Linde already nuzzles her side, purring reassuringly to communicate her own well-being and the fact that this fight is really over, as well to calm H’aanit down. With the help of her loyal leopard friend she is finally able to stand up. 

Therion approached them from their right: “Are you all ok?!” Then he draws his sword in a fluent motion from the creatures still body, with creates a slightly disgusting slurping sound.

H’aanit turns to her left, suddenly immensely worried about Primrose. Relief washes over her as she sees Prim sitting next to the corpse of the monster. Prim seems to be in a kind of shock again, her gaze fixed on the bloody mess that was the neck of the beast, her right hand’s shaking and still clenched around her knife. 

“Prim? Primrose? Looketh at me.” H’aanit softly crouches down beside her friend, before slowly reaching out and softly touching her friends cheek with her fingertips, nudging her to look in her direction, while her other hand grasps the one holding the weapon in a calm manner.   
Primroses lost eyes finally find H’aanits green ones and Prim manages to take a deep breath, once again out of her trance. H’aanit smiles “Taketh deep breaths, Prim. Thou did really good handeling the beast.”

Behind them, Ophilia and Cyrus cautiously made their ways downstairs. Ophilia had taken care of him upstairs, tending to his wound although he got lucky. Still she kept a hand on his back while walking, like she couldn’t trust his steps just yet.  
Cyrus puts his hands on his hips, looking down on the beast “Well this certainly took one or two unsuspected turns. Now we know why that book was sealed, I would say.”

Therion clenches his teeth, but before he can give the scholar a piece of his mind, the door to the inn flings open and Olberic, Alfyn and Tressa come running in. Olberic has already drawn his sword, ready to slay down enemies and save the day, but he lets it sink upon the sight of the monster on the floor. 

Alfyn whistles shortly, “Shucks, what happened here?!”  
And Tressa sighes, “We missed all the action, didn’t we?”

Next moment, angry stomps have them turn towards the bar, where the innkeepers’ couple appears from their kitchen. They both look furious upon the sight of their tavern, the slayed beast and their eight guests.

The wife angrily points a finger towards H’aanit, shouting: “Another of your hunting games?!” And before any of them could reply or apologize, her husband adds “You are all banned from our establishment!! All of you- out! You’re not welcome here anymore!” 

“Told you we would be kicked out,” whispers Ophilia, before making her way upstairs again to get their stuff, followed by Cyrus, Alfyn and Tressa to help her. It wouldn’t take long; the rooms haven’t been big enough to unpack their bags anyway.   
With the tavern being filled with tension, Therion nudges H’aanit and Primrose to stand and move towards the door. The thief’s intention totally is making an exit before the townsfolk demanded them to clean the mess or pay for reparations. 

“At least they now got enough wood to keep that fire burning, our payment should cover the mess and the next guests won’t sit in chairs older than them,” mutters the white-haired man, while gently shoving Olberic, the lady and the huntress out onto the street.   
The rest of the band follows after a few minutes, handing everyone their backpacks. 

Alfyn sighs, “Shucks, nobody in this place would let us stay at their place. Were to now?”

H’aanit pets Linde on the head, her gaze fixed on the trail leading out of town and into the woods. “Ive foundest a good place to camp near a river not far from heren. This will maken a good opportunity to clean ourselves, maketh a fire and resten up.” 

“Are you all even okay for the walk,” asks Olberic, eyebrows furrowed, eyeing Cyrus, who looks both embarrassed and exhausted, then Therion who got a few scratches on his arms and tears in his scarf, next H’aanit, who was just dipped in beast blood from her jump, the dried liquid sticking to her skin and lastly, Primrose. Ophilia is carefully wrapping a bandage around her wrist, where some of the monsters saliva seemed to have burned the skin slightly.

But Primrose meets his gaze and smiles: “Yeah, no, we’re good to walk. Let the fresh night air calm our nerves and get us out of here.”

So they make their way out of the town, with H’aanit leading the way, Olberic at her side, cautious of any wildlife lurking in the shadows. Sometimes Linde growls at the bushes, scaring of possible threats. Behind them, Tressa pleads Cyrus and Therion to tell her what exactly happened, so Cyrus gives her a report about unsealing the book with an ancient incantation or something like that. Unfortunately the creature was sealed in that book and, set free, shoved the scholar on the wall, where he had collapsed. The book had burned itself, obviously only serving the purpose of holding a magic creature once. 

“Whoooaa I never thought books could do that!” Tressa merrily jumps in the air, obviously excited. 

Cyrus nodds, already lost in thought “Well, me neither. In all honesty, this really requires more investigation. Was the monster once free, but sealed into the book to prevent it from harming people? Or did someone create the magic book with a monster inside to have a truly dangerous weapon in his pocket? A book as a containment for a living being is another mystery in need of solving, you see I once read an old manuscript about books used about 105 years by a scholar nam-“

Interrupting him before the group would get bored with a lecture about the history of books Tressa turns to the thief: “Well I’m sure you will not stop looking for clues. But Therion, how about you tell me how you killed that awful monster?! Or could you imitate the weird walk it did, like Ophilia mentioned?! You think you can go by the name of beast-slayer now??” 

“Yeah do a crabwalk or something like that!” Alfyn grinns, elbowing Therions side.

Behind them, Ophilia adjusts her tempo to walk beside Primrose, eyeing her curiously. The dancer doesn’t look particular exhausted or too tired, her gaze fixed on H’aanits silhouette, bathed in the bright moonlight that shines their way. She seems to be lost in thought. 

“Maybe you should talk to her when we reach our stop for the night,“ the priestess softly suggests. 

Primrose turns to her, blushing a bit. “Ummmm…”

“It just, seems to me like you have something on your mind regarding her.” With that being said, Ophilia lets the matter rest. 

Soon (and thankfully without another fight), they reach the spot H’aanit has in mind for camping. It’s a meadow at the edge of the forest, wild red, blue and white flowers growing between the green grasses and fern, swaying from side to side caused by a soft cool breeze. A clear stream bubbles on the other side. Moon and stars lighten the plateau. 

“Oh it’s beautiiifull!” Tressa jogs over to the middle of the meadow, whirling around with a laugh.  
It truly is a pretty spot. The aspect of a peaceful night, just eight companions (and a leopard) without grumpy villagers or magical monsters and Tressas happiness and excitement certainly lift the mood.

Afyn even whistles a happy tune while they work on making the place as cosy as possible, getting a fire started and cooking up a kind of “eatable-mushrooms, eatable-plants, snacks from their pockets”-meal, that well, wasn’t half bad and warmed them.

Afterwards they sit around the fireplace. Tressa leans against Olberic, already dozing off. Next to them Therion cleans the blade of his sword with some wet grass and Linde licks her fur clean.  
H’aanit stands up: “I betteth maken my way to the stream, to cleaneth myself.” The blood of that beast still stains her clothes and her skin. She stands up and leaves the camp towards the stream. 

Primrose tilts her head to look after her, uncertainty on her expression. Afterwards she caught Ophilias reassuring nod and stands up. “I umm, probably also got stains to take care off. See you.” Smiling towards Ophilia, she walks off, to approach H’aanit.

Alfyn leans back, grinning, “You think they’re finally going at it?”

Therion lets out an amused huff “Nha. They’ve become too good at dancing around each other.”

Ophilia gives both of them a weak slap on the arm “They need time to figure out their feelings. Have some patience. It’s already heart-warming to see them look at each other”

Cyrus looks up from his book, one brow raised. “What are you talking about?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're wholesome, 8 friends supporting each other, caring and providing and individual and- yeah ok I shut up.  
> give me attention if u wanna unseal something. idk, wanted to make an insider joke. I shouldn't write so much bullshit.  
> Well see u next and probably last chap


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chap. Hopefully wholesome.

H’aanit sits at the shore, her freshly washed skin glistening, a few water drops running down her cheek and chin.   
Primrose sits down next to her, smiling at her “Hey… that was quit the experience today, huh? You go hunting all the time and saw your share of beasts in this world. But I’m, well, a city girl, I would say. The monsters I usually take care of are way more human, well at least in appearance. It really… shocked me. I mean it looked horrific, right? Wow I probably sound ridiculous, especially since you’re used to deal with monsters like that. … Those claws and teeth and the stink…” her voice trailed off. 

H’aanit could barely believe Prims words. Prim was always a really tough woman with an admirable attitude, never letting anyone see behind that. She had witnessed the dancer flung herself fearless at a beast, faster than Therion and herself at the time. She was so… admirable. Especially now, because her admit of fear was everything but weakness. Her bronzed skin seemed to glow under the pale moonlight, her brown hair framing her face, her gaze fixed on the brook, watching the water running downstream. 

Without thinking about it, H’aanit softly puts her hand on top of Prims, facing her and taking a deep breath “Thou was incredible today! Fear is common and an help to not taken reckless actions. Thu overcameth thy fear and chargeth forward like a true huntress! I am truly grateful to known thy at my side on this travel. Mosten people comment on thy look, but thu are not only the most beautiful, but thy heart is filleth with courage and determination.”

Prim looks at H’aanit with big eyes, her cheeks slightly red because of the unsuspected praise. She lacks the words to properly express her emotions, so she leans forward and gives the huntress a quick but fond kiss on the cheek, right under the small scratch the beast has left there earlier.   
H’aanit immediately blushes, before she squeezes Prims hand tenderly. 

Together they enjoy the calm of the late night, gazing upon the stream and the stars, fond of their company. 

May destiny release beasts and other threats upon them, they were no longer fighting their demons alone, so it felt like nothing could truly harm them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H'aanits dialect gives me a stroke. Also I have no idea of her linguistic so it's just some try to get it kinda-right. 
> 
> Anyway thank you for reading, remember to play some more Octopath and enjoy your life.   
> PS: u guessed it: I crave kudos and every kind of comment.

**Author's Note:**

> I live on a diet of kudos and comments- don't let me starve pls


End file.
